Stand my Ground
by Enelya Arcamenal
Summary: The Hunger Games are back after the failed Rebellion of the Mockingjay. But this time they are Harder than ever. A new President, new arena, new mutts and new Tributes. This is surely going to be one, bloody games.
1. Chapter 1

A/N – Hey, My other SYOT got deleted because I had tributes sent by review. Slightly odd I know but there ya go. So this is NOT a SYOT. This is just a Hunger Games story, but don't stop reading because of that!

"PRIM" The cry tore through the air, running rampant in the streets. That one word carried so much raw emotion….so much pain. If he had been any other man he might have cried, but he wasn't just any man. He was the President of Panem; at least he was for the moment. Perhaps the reason he didn't care was because he was void of emotion. Yes, that must have been it. He may have been void of emotion but he had to admit, he was impressed by the rebels plan. The thought however annoying it was that, the hovercraft that had deposited those evil parachutes had not been the capitals, was pleasing. It was even better that those bombs had killed the mockingjays sister. It was a delicious plan, one that filled him with satisfaction. Katniss Everdeen would hopefully be driven mad by this untimely death of her sister.

He licked his puffy lips and took another look out the snowy window. It was an ironic scene; the Girl on Fire was literally on fire. Smoking flames licked her body and tore at her flesh as she rushed towards her sisters smouldering remains. She almost got there had he not a plan up his immaculate suit sleeves, it was a nasty trick. Set into stages but would cost him a lot, even his life. It was a good job he had his grand-daughter Elixir Snow, to carry on his message. The first stage of this plan was already in action. Unbeknownst to most of the capitol and the rebels, Snow had many gunman positioned on top of every house surrounding his mansion. The first shot went off; it rolled through the square giving a moment of serene peace before the screams began. More shots, steady and even. The rapping and rolling of the bullets echoed, mingling with the screams as bullets hit.

When the shots stopped he scanned the street outside for what he needed. Again and again he looked, searching until he found it. Katniss Everdeen, the mockingjay lay dead on the floor. Her skin was melting and her once beautiful black hair was singed and half gone. Killing her would rip out many hearts but it wasn't enough, it wouldn't put a stop to the uprising. No, something even more drastic had to happen for that. Two things in fact, the first of those was due any minute. Putting a triumphant smile on his face he rang a fine bronze bell, the sound echoed through the house. To begin with he heard nothing, just the sound of his own raspy breathing but then footsteps. Light airy footsteps outside his door, it creaked open and a girl walked in. Elixir Snow stared at her grand-father.

It would be a lie to say she wasn't pretty, for she was. Her milky white face was framed by glossy jet hair that fell just above her elbow. Perhaps the most striking things was how ordinary and kind she looked for someone with an evil grandfather. The fourteen year old was just in time to see phase one of the make things bigger plan. The roar could be heard first, then a sludge treacly noise that sounded like sticky liquorice being turned. A huge black wave, much like the one a pod in the city had contained, burst into view. It swamped everything although cleverly avoided the mansion, no one would be able to escape it. Most would drown inside it put it delivered an even worse fate. They watched as the liquid turned a man to dust.

"Oh Grandfather! How horrible!" Elixir was almost lost for words, the horrificness and ruthlessness she had just seen shocked her. Tiny crystal tears formed at the edge of her eyes. She was too soft for her own good. He shuddered involuntarily, sternly fixing his cold gaze on her.

"Lixir, listen to me. I need to die soon." This brought a fresh wave of sobs to her. "I need you to do something for me." He knew she would agree, she did. He beckoned her closer and whispered softly into her ear, she paled but nodded as he pressed something into her hand. She stepped back respectfully and watched him turn to a set of buttons on a walnut table.

"Lixir, remember what I have told you."

"Yes Grandfather." He smiled at her automatic reply and faced back towards the panel of buttons. It was a strange sensation that came over him as his wrinkled fingers hovered shakily over the button in the middle. "To kill a weed." He muttered to himself. "You must pull up its roots." He didn't give himself any time to hesitate and slammed his fist down onto the big red button before turning to Elixir.

"Now." It was his last word before the gunshot tolled, marking the death of Panem's President.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Elixir but her lip, looking into the mirror with a surprisingly emotional expression. It was eleven years on the dot since that frightful day. Her grandfather had told her what to do in three easy steps.

Step one had been to disable the rebels. This had been what the button was for. When it had been pressed a series of bombs had decimated any hovercraft's, rebel military tech and District 13. Much thanks to a bunch of clever capitolites who ventured in to place those bombs. It had been quick and clean, the rebels were soon under control. But Panem was still in disarray. No president, the districts were still trying to up rise. It was a complete mess, luckily she had a sure fire way to the top. Poison. Snow had a large supply of fatal poisons stored away, she hadn't needed them. No one else wanted to be President after Coriolanus. The path way had been cleared for her, the poison remained in a secret bunker. But still the districts were rebelling. Only one solution remained.

It took two years to subdue them all. Mainly because the effect of the sleeping gas needed to be re applied every month. The gas was useful as it soon put the districts to sleep. Any person with a gas mask had been shot. It was a quick snappy way to end the war but she like quick snappy endings. The reconstruction the districts took place while they were under sleep. For seven years she had been restoring them, fixing up new houses and shops. It made her feel happy, knowing Panem was now basically hers. Power...she could feel it gripping at her wrists and invading her heart. It was worming its way into her day, mirroring her every step. It was invigorating. Now all she had to do to get a proper grip on the reins of Power was do that last thing on her grandfathers list.

Restore the Hunger Games.

Not an easy task. Persuading her fellow capitolites to agree had been hard. The whole rebellion had been grounded on the Hunger Games. But she had managed and now it was ready. The arena was complete and mentors decided. Escorts, stylists and game-makers. She smiled wryly, eleven years ago she had been a frightened fourteen year old with the world on her shoulders. Now she was a young woman with the world in her hands, and tonight was the night she proved that by making her first televised speech ever. It hadn't been an easy task, coming up with what she was going to say. But she had, now all the stylist had had to do was make her look pretty. No mean feat since she had been basically ignoring her appearance since she shot her grand father. But they had made her look nice, the image before proved that.

Her skin had been polished to utter perfection, not a blemish in sight. Giving it a porcelain like appearance, contrasting with her hair. The silky blackness had been swept up into a glossy up-do and sprinkled with glitter to give it a glow. But the dress stole the show. It was deep burgundy and strapless with a large silver belt buckle twisted into dozens of leaves. From there the skirts fanned out, flowing over her legs. Small plum heels with tiny red roses decorated her feet. Blood red lipstick had been smeared over her full lips, crimson eye shadow covered her eye lids.

She was contented to just stare at herself all day, it had been an age since a dress this pretty. A small man rushed in.

"Show time Snow." Slowly she rose from the chair following him to the stage.

"Three, two, one. LIVE" A man shouted from the left of her. Everything blurred until it was just her and the camera. It only lasted a few seconds but It felt like a life time. Julius Heinrich sat next to her on a plush sofa, a blue diamanté microphone held in his hands. His forest green hair stood on end in a large quiff. Matching lipstick and suit completed the look.

"So, Miss President. You are here to tell us?"

"I am putting the Hunger Games back on." Maybe the world stopped. Maybe it didn't.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." They wanted to know more.

"Anything you'd like to say about this?"

"I have an idea for it. The tributes will have an ally chosen for them. This ally will be connected to them by a chip. If one of them is killed, the chip will kill off their partner." A gruesome idea perhaps.

"Oh, well what a surprising!"

"I guess." What was that? She didn't guess anything. She knew!

"Have you a name for this?"

"Yes." Give them MORE Elixir!

"Will you tell us this name?"

"The Truce Bond." Rather an anti climax to it all.

A/N – There we go. The starting chapter of this. Remember this IS NOT A SYOT! So NO tributes. Anyway, next chapter is D1 reapings.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Oh please Mother! If I'm not beautiful then Panem isn't Panem!" - Ambrose Randers_

**Ambrose Randers**

To say I am not beautiful is a lie, I'm not boasting. Just telling the truth, loads of people tell me I'm pretty. It's not my fault I appreciate how I look. Mother told me no one compares to my beauty; I should hope this is true. Who needs brain and brawn if you look like me? Even Tomlinson, the head trainer at the centre, says I'm stunning. He also says I should practise with a blade, just in case I'm picked for the Hunger Games. I won't be, if I do go in it will be because I volunteered won't it? But, just because I need to know any gossip, I will head towards the centre to see who the female volunteer is.

I will choose my reaping outfit later; instead I pull on a pair of leather trousers and a red cotton top. The top is ripped and Mama fixed it last month. My shoes are also in bad condition. The toes are scuffed and peeling off, the heels fell off last week, I had to glue them back on. Ever since Papa ran off with that dirty skank, income has been a bit slow. Mama works day and night just to set food on the table, I'm due to start work next month. Work…I shudder at the thought of it. Even though Mama made sure I was set at one of the gem polishing firms. All I need to do is tip dirty gems into the washer, but I swear all the grime from them gets transferred to my hands. My lovely polished hands. It can't be helped I suppose. At least I have Romeo.

Romeo Thespa is my boyfriend of three years. Ever since I was twelve years old and spotted him across the school courtyard. His hair was sandy and flopped lazily over his head. Eyes of pure sky blue glared out at me from under that umbrella of bronze. I smiled at him and he came under my spell. He's been under it ever since. I'll find him at the training centre, I know I will. He's always lopping limbs off of poor dummies. Mesh heads lay on the floor after he's been training. Lethal with a sword is Romeo. Maybe I should put some make up on before I go meet him; I don't want to seem ugly.

**Romeo Thespa**

The sharp blade of the sabre sunk deep into the yellow mesh dummy. If it had been a human he would be dead. Good practise I suppose, for the Hunger Games. I'm the volunteer this year. I'm not surprised, anything to get away from Ambrose. I love her, I really do but she is a handful. I guess I just feel mixed up at the moment. That's why I'm always at the training; it clears my head of cobwebs leaving me focussed for the day ahead. A day full of work. I've been employed for work since I was thirteen, girls begin at sixteen. Ambrose gets to spend the day doing something nice, usually to do with _her_ face while I'm labouring making products for the capitol to put on_ their _faces.

Sliding the sword into its sheaf, I make my way over to the bulletin board. The reaping is at three thirty so most people are asleep; it will be mostly empty today. The centre will, if you could call it a centre. It's really an old warehouse converted into a place for kids to train. Most districts don't have this sort of thing. I pity them, I really do. I couldn't imagine life without these swords or dummies. I feel at home here, like I belong. That's why I was chosen to volunteer this year. The girl chosen was Pearl Bennett. Ambrose's rival, she'll be sniggering when she finds out. Pearls nice I suppose a bit full of herself. But then so is Ambrose.

The front door of the centre opens; I can hear the creak from up here. I know who it is. It's my girlfriend.

"Romeo!" Her voice floats through the emptiness, singling out the darkness and casting away the shadows. She makes you feel better, like a personal sun. My personal sun. I move down the iron stairs, she turned the corner and her face lit up in a smile. I feel bad for all the bad things I've thought about her. She seems genuinely happy to see me.

"I've missed you!" she purrs folding her arms around me. I reply by hugging her back. Her eyes spy the beheaded dummies on the floor and flicked her hair back.

"Is there a mirror anywhere?" That was the Ambrose I knew, the one who only cared about her looks. I shake my head, Pearl banned mirrors. She nudged a dummies head with her foot and sniffed before picking up a blade from the rack.

**Ambrose Randers**

I'm not sure why I picked the sword up; maybe it was the fact that Pearl Bennett was female volunteer. Or maybe it was the fact that Romeo was male. I whirled it around, the grip of the sword heavy in my palm. A dummy lost half its head. The effect was curious, my mind cleared and focussed on that one point. Kill. Another dummy met its match, and another. I was getting the hang of this. Each dummies death was met with a small pang of remorse before I buried it deep. I was brought out of my trance by the clash of metal of metal. It rang in the air, I flinched. Romeo was standing there, a sabre in his hand, the two swords clashed against each other.

For a second I wanted to fight him, to take this scimitar and ram it down his throat. It was an overwhelming need to kill and fight. It only lasted a second but it scared me to death. I dropped the sword just as Romeo swung his around. His reflexes are good but not that good, the silver sword nicked my cheek. It stung like fire, hot rich blood trickled down my cheek like tears. My beautiful face...ruined. All because of some BOY. I hit him, with force, in the cheek. He looked shocked. I guess I would be. I brushed past him, storming towards the heavy doors, the floor echoing my loud footsteps. The tears pricked at my eyes. I was over reacting, but that's me I guess.

As I walk past the bulletin board I rip off the sheet of paper that tells us who the volunteers are. My tears confuse my eyes but I know what I'm looking at. Pearl Bennett. That evil little girl stole my spot in the Hunger Games. I woke up not wanting to be a part of it. Now I do. I grab a stick of charcoal from a nearby table, I scribble Pearls name out and write down mine. Ha. Let them think on that.

**Romeo Thespa**

I'm not sure what just happened. The swords, Ambrose, a scar. It all seems like a muddle. A big muddle with me in the middle. She just stormed off, I followed her, waiting behind an iron pillar as she ripped off paper from the bulletin. I didn't need super sight to know what paper it was, it could only be the volunteer sheet. The blood was pooling down her cheek but she didn't seem to notice. After finishing writing it down she turned and looked at me. Well not at me, but at the pillar I was behind. She was shaking with...fury? Fear? Anger? I don't know, but in that moment she looked absolutely terrifying, mad even. I waited until she was gone to step out of my hiding place. I just didn't get it. Sure I had scarred her but... oh. I had scarred her. Marred her unmatchable beauty that until this day she had maintained against all odds. I must be making it sound like an unmatchable feat which in District 1 it may well be.

I walked out the warehouse, closing and locking the heavy door behind me. Tucking the key into my shirt pocket I started home. I live in the upper end of town, in the middle section. Our house is made of bricks and I can see the victors village from my bedroom window. Its warm and snug although a chill breeze runs from under the doors in the winter. I can't say this for Ambrose's house. Its made from tin and iron, an old storage house converted so people could live there. A cold wind always circulates through the rooms, the windows are cracked and warped in their frames. In the deep winter the metal rattles in its unsteady frames. It drives her mad, all she wants is to live in a decent house where her clothes aren't always damp.

I make my way up to my front door, the rusty old knocker swings in the wind. I push it open, a blast of warm roasty air envelopes me and all thoughts of Ambrose disappear. My mother's face peers around the kitchen doorway, Juliet clings to her skirt. Her face lights up when she sees me and her legs run fast towards me. I lift her up and throw her in the air like father used to. He has a bad back now so can't anymore. I can though; Juliet likes it when I do it. Juliet is my sister; we have the same eyes, same nose, and same laugh. It's amazing, I love her to bits. Mother smiles at me as well, gentle and kind. Marian Thespa is the streets do gooder. She's forever taking homemade cookies to other families. But today she will stay indoors. Today is the reaping.

Maybe I haven't mentioned it enough. Do I need to? Jools is only ten, not eligible for the reaping yet. But me? If I'm reaped there will be no volunteer because I would be that person. I can't well go and volunteer for myself can I? Mother anxiously searches my face for news, news she sent me to get. Am I the volunteer? I let my careful mask slip and she sees the truth. I am the volunteer and I'm scared as hell.

**Ambrose R****anders**

I have chosen my dress. Its muted pink chiffon with one shoulder strap about five centimetres wide. The bodice is tight to my waist where a blossom pink ribbon curls around. The rest of the fabric falls in a pink waterfall to just below my knees. Golden sandals adorn my feet, slinky straps wrap themselves around my dainty ankles. I spent all last year's wages on this dress, but never mind, I look stunning, I know I do because I always look stunning. Mother nodded her approval when I came downstairs to show her. The only problem now is my face, I can see just by looking in the dirty cracked mirror that it's going to be difficult. Luckily I have an army of products to help me.

First off I wash all the blood away and look at the cut. It's not deep but long. Three inches maybe and an unflattering red colour. I pick up a pot of chalk. Its small and the rocks inside are almost all gone, I only use It for emergencies and this is an emergency. I rub it into my skin, feeling the silky brush of the corners on my skin. After that I pick up the red paste Momma makes. She mixes the juice from wild strawberries with a tiny bit of flour. If you put it on your lips they turn a wonderful red shade. My white bone comb snags in the knots of my hair but eventually it falls in glossy blonde waves framing my head. I look amazing, the cut is almost invisible!

The stairs creak as I walked down them, towards where Mother is making soup for later tonight. Little does she know I won't be there to enjoy it. She turns when I enter.

"Aren't you beautiful my little Ambrose!"

"Oh please Mother! If I'm not beautiful then Panem isn't Panem!" I replied instantly. She can be so stupid. Her lips wobble a little as she strokes my hair lovingly.

"Come on then. Lets go to the reaping." She pushes us towards the door. Just me and her. We pull on our coats ad I almost call out for Romeo. He has been here for every reaping since I met him. Not anymore.

**Romeo Thespa**

The crowd pushes us along, me Jools and Mother. Father got to stay at home. Mother clings tight onto my baby sister, muttering things into her hair. She shoots me a look, its her 'Don't volunteer' look. She's been doing it for years and up till now its worked. But not this year. This year I have to go, she sees that in my eyes and hope leaves her. Such a pessimist my mother, I might come back. Maybe. The chance is small, but I've trained and I'll have allies. After all, who can resist Romeo Thespa? My mother turns to go to her section, I grab her arm and give her a weak smile. She doesn't return it. I'm beginning to doubt my decision greatly. Do I want to die? To go into the games. People are watching me. They know I'm volunteer, they know. So I must do my...duty to my district.

A lady pricks my finger and blots it on the page. I'm too busy to care, searching the crowds for Ambrose. Before I can catch a glimpse I'm pushed towards my pen. The boys jostle me, some scared some bored some indifferent. I catch a view of a blonde in the sea of people but it could be anyone really. Our escort waddles onto the stage. Her dress is extravagant, her hair even more so. It's been divided up into sections, gelled into little points then sprayed with different colours. She looks like a mix of hedgehog and rainbow but that's probably fashion in the capitol right now. In my opinion she looks ridiculous, but then who doesn't when you're wrapped in what looks like a cross between chicken skin and dog teeth? Pink dog teeth as well.

She smiles at us showing pearly white teeth. I try not to hate her but it's so hard, all I want to do is grab a hammer and knock those teeth in. She hasn't even begun to talk yet! She will though, and when she does it will be in the insufferable capitol accent when it's all posh nobs and high squeaks. She grabs a microphone and opens her mouth

"Shall we begin then? Now I just HATE that BORING film at the beginning of every reaping, don't you? So we are going to skip that bit!" She smiled and gestured towards the two glass bowls full of white paper slips. "Shall we shake things up a bit and start with the boys?" No one answered her so she just went ahead. Her perfectly manicured hand dips into the bowl and I imagine a little fish coming and eating it off. After all, it does look like a fish bowl. The slip shakes in her hands as she flicks off the little piece of tape holding it together.

"Adam Levee!"

**Ambrose Randers**

And of course some wimpy twelve year old walks up to the stage and blah de blah de blah. The poor kid looks scared half to death as Talina our escort grabs his hand and yanks him forward. If I had that fruitball gripping my hand I would be scared too I suppose. She asks for volunteers and for a second everything is silent. I truly believed Romeo was going to detach himself from duty and be a coward. Fat chance. He heroically volunteers, sweeping his blond hair behind his ears. Lazily he _strolls_ to the stage, his face a mask of pure cockiness. It's an act of course, he isn't actually sure he will win. He's probably trembling in those posh boots of his. Not that I'm jealous or anything.

Talina Smiles at him and asks his name.

"Romeo Thespa. Nice to meet you." Ha, not likely, he hates her for sure.

"That was really nice of you to do that, I must admit, District 1 are the most polite and selfless of all! District 12 hardly EVER get volunteers!" She squeaks.

"It's because they have life preservation and we don't." There are a few titters at his witty remark. Not me though, not me. Talina's smile doesn't falter and she dives into the bowl for females.

"Pearl Bennett!" That's good news. No one will expect for anyone to volunteer for her since she IS the volunteer. They're about to get the shock of their lives then.

**Romeo Thespa**

"I volunteer!" Ambrose's voice rang out, people started to whisper, everyone knows that Pearl is the volunteer this year. But thats not what I'm scared about, I'm scared it will end up me vs her and to survive I'll have to kill her. But I don't want to. She walked up to the stage all confident like its her against the world, which I guess it is at the moment. Talina is practically wetting herself with excitement with this little stunt. I suppose even escorts know the goss around here. Ambrose grins at me, her teeth shining. She walks closer and shakes my hand squeezing just a little to tightly.

"I'm going to crush you Romeo. I'm going to crush you like a bug." she hissed menacingly before we turn to face the district. Talina is fussing with her microphone and Ambrose grabs it.

"Hello. D1. Me, Ambrose Randers, I have something to say." The crowd look a little shocked. "You see this scar? You see it? That was cause by Romeo here! I tell you, do we want a boy who goes around marking his girlfriends as VICTOR? NO! Of course we dont. We want girls who stand up to their evil boyfriends as VICTORS! So support ME. Not him." And with that she shoved the mic back to Talina and flounced off backstage. Leaving me, Talina and the mayor standing like lemons. I grin weakly before following Ambrose. Ambrose...she seemed slightly unhinged. And right now its hard to tell whether she was ALWAYS mentally deranged or not.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Graphite, you know the hunk with a pout?" – Artemis Melet_

**Artemis Melet **

The sky was still dark when I woke up, although small threads of the rising sun were visible through the curtains. I yawned and rolled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. It's reaping day, I know its reaping day because my sister, Diana, has written REAPING DAY! In big bold red letters across our bedroom wall. My sister, the sadistic little angel who loves other peoples pain. My parents actually encourage this. I mean, I like cutting the dummies in the training centre a whack but really? Who looks forwards to reaping day? Not me, I shiver, not me at all.

I pull on my favourite pair of black trousers and a woollen green sweater. The Melets are not the richest family in the world, we are almost poor. But we still have enough money to be able to train as well has work. Diana doesn't want to train; she believes that someone would volunteer for her. Namely, me.

"We would be like Katniss and Prim." She cooed, whilst handing me a pitiful bow and braided my dark hair.

"Yeah." I scoffed, "And we all know how that turned out." Quite horrible-y indeed. I try not to grin as I slip into the worn boots at the foot of my bed. Me and Diana are so different, she's blonde willowy fourteen year old, I'm a black haired stocky - year old. But one thing we do have in common is the dreams. We are both dreamers.

The stairs barely creak as I tip toe down stairs, it's early. Barely five in the morning but I feel wide awake. I'm a morning person you see. I grab the large bone knife that ley on the table top and shove it into a leather bag along with cheese and bread. I leave a note for my parents so they don't worry.

_Mom and Dad,_

_Gon to the traning senter, having lunch wiv Regan. Don't worry, I took the nife from the table. Not Diana. See you all at the reeping._

_Artemis._

It was full of misspellings and grammar errors but I don't go to school, I haven't had time to learn. There's a girl in my work place, Konnabeth she's called, that trains under the covers at night. At least that's what she tells us. I believe her though, she seems smart and wily enough for it.

**Graphite Stoner**

Mother is busy grinding away at the kernels of wheat, the pale white flour falling beneath the sieve bowl. It's a clever contraption, just a tin bowl with a rough stone plate held above. The stone is shaped like a cone with a flat point so the wheat flour falls down. The flour falls down into the bowl, effectively collecting it all up. Useful indeed. She smiles at me, a faint fragile smile. Since dad died she had been gradually getting worse. I feel a tiny twinge of regret. I'm the only good thing left in her life; if I die…..she'll fade away to nothing. Because I have higher chances of dying this year. I'm the volunteer for the Games.

I haven't actually been to the centre to confirm that fact, but I have a gut feeling. I'm eighteen and in my prime. Who else could it be?

"Grahpy? You OK dear?" My mother taps me on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm good Mom." She nods and goes back to grinding. I want to touch her and reassure her everything will be fine. But it won't, no matter that I go in. I might not come out. But if I die, I'll die a hero right? I won't have it any other way.

**Artemis Melet**

Regan looks up at me, pulling her knife from the wall. Her eyebrows are raised suggestively, a small smile played on her lips.

"No Ree. I don't like him. I haven't even spoken to him yet!" I protest at her unspoken sentence, "Even if I DID like him, which I don't, why would he choose me?" It's true, no matter how depressing. Why would the hottest boy in District 2 choose me over Regan? Regan's really pretty, all flame red hair, soft pink lips, emerald eyes. Me and her couldn't be more different, well we could but let's not go into that. I have pasty skin and my hair is a frizzy mud like mess. My eyes match my hair, boring dirt brown. And who wants to kiss someone with eyes like that. No-one, that's who, no-one.

Regan nudged me, grinning madly. I'm not sure why. We are in a serious situation here. A delicate web involving me, Graphite and the reaping. Rumour has it that I'm the volunteer. Regan hasn't looked, I don't know who it is and I don't care. As long as it's not me.

"Guys!" Someone shouts, its Konnabeth, one of the girls who barely train. If she got into the games she would win from cleverness, not brawn, although she's pretty deadly with a knife.

"Hey!" I call back to her, picking up one of the bows. I don't use them much, close combat is more my thing. I grab an arrow and –put it on the bow. Trying to remember how Katniss Everdeen did it in the Hunger Games many years ago. I'd seen it on a tape the capitol gave us. I pulled the string back then let the arrow fly. It missed the target by a long shot.

"You fail Missy." Regan grinned from her position next to Konnabeth.

"Whatever."

"To busy thinking about Graphite?"

"Who's Graphite?" Konnabeth questioned.

"Graphite, you know the hunk with a pout?"

"OH! Oh yeah." She smiled at me, as if I couldn't have crushes.

We stood there in silence, just staring at each other.

"Should we do it then Missy?" Regan whispered, looking in the direction of the bill board.

"Yeah. I think we should." We walk towards it, weaving through the mass of people. Scruffy charcoal writing stands out against the snowy paper. We move steadily forwards. The clanging of swords and the whiz of bows bash at my ears. Blood pounds at my heart and rises to my throat.

D2 Volunteers:

Male – Graphite Stoner

Female – Artemis Melet

It's me

**Graphite Stoner**

I pick up my coat, its threadbare, made of ratty blue cloth. Mom picked it up at the market. I like it though; it smells of warm bread and a tang of soap. Closing the door behind me; I leave the house. Letting the icy wind toss my hair. It's quite long, down to my shoulder; it's knotted and tangled cos I won't brush it. We live in the middle side of town, hair means nothing. Houses of brick, only minutes from the training centre. The girl next door, Artemis she's called, left earlier. She's an early riser, me? I like a lie in. I'm not keen to go out; I just need to know if I'm volunteer. I decide to head to the O Malley bakery. June the baker's daughter will know who the volunteers are; she's marring the centres head.

I trundle along, humming to myself. I shouldn't be happy. It's reaping day after all but I'm still excited. The bakers is a short walk away, already I'm looking forward to a nice sugar bun. The streets are already busy, most buzzing for the event this afternoon. We must be the only district with the shops open on reaping day. I laugh hollowly; The Hunger Games are a joke. They disgust me, yet I am going to play a part in them. Why do I train then? Because I should, because me training could save someone's life, like Aaden. My auntie's son, if he got reaped I could volunteer. It's not a thing you choose though, if you train at the centre, you're put in the pot for volunteer. That's just the way it is.

I step inside the baker, closing the door behind me. June is behind the counter along with Mr O Malley.

"Hello Sir. Hello June." I say politely. Usually I'm quite rude and arrogant, at least according to my mom I am. But to Mr O Malley I'm nice. Never diss the people who feed you, I learnt that lesson the hard way. The butchers never give us a decent portion of meat anymore. Jerks. Anyway, I gave them a smile and they returned it.

"Afternoon Mr Stoner, or should I say, Mr Volunteer!" Ah, so it is me then.

"Yeah….." I mumble, pretending to look bashful.

"Be proud sonny!" Because dying is such a thing to be proud of, as long as it's a glory filled death I'm good with it.

"Just thinking of the other kids." Acting sympathetic, works all the time.

"The ones you're going to kill? BE PROUD! You're sending them to a better place."

"Papa!" June exclaimed, "Don't be mean. I think it's perfectly awful to kill these children."

"June! Don't be a sissy! Now sonny, what do you want to eat?" I scanned the cakes on offer, mulling over what had been said. Is killing younger children really a good thing? Is that…honourable? "Graphite? You OK son?" I looked up at the Baker.

"Yeah…I'm really really great. I'll have, err, a sugar bun please."

"There we are. Free today, for our volunteer." I took my purchase and stepped outside. Letting the wind cool me down. Before starting on my way to the square. Time for the reaping.

I know I wasn't wearing the smartest clothes, but they would do. I trudged on, trying to gather up the appetite to eat the bun. But I couldn't, June's words kept spinning around my head.

"Hey Graphite!" Someone yelled behind me, I twirled around and came face to face with the young Artemis Melet. Her dark hair was tied back in a short ponytail. Cheeks red and out of breath she grinned in front of me.

"Hey, Artemis." She looked surprised that I knew her name. Of course I did, she was set to be one of the most talented people at the centre. I definitely kept tabs on my competition.

"So" She puffed, "Volunteers huh?" I nodded.

"Yeah." I was quite unhappy she was volunteer, Artemis was only fourteen. Not old enough to go in the games. What, why was I thinking that? I bit my lip, I would be facing younger than her in the Games.

"Looking forward to it?"

"No." I caught her looking at my food hungrily, "You want it?" I asked.

"Yes! I mean, sure." She happily snatched the bun off of me and ran off, waving her hands at a tall redhead. Regan, a sixteen year old with a passion for knives. Chuckling I moved away, ready for the reaping.

**Artemis Melet**

The bun was nice, I practically devoured it.

"No breakfast again Missy?" Regan inquired, twiddling with her hair. It was loose, a bad idea since she fiddles with it when she's nervous.

"Do you think….I might get reaped?" She mutters.

"I'll volunteer for you. I have to." I mumble back bitterly.

"But I'm sixteen, your fourteen." I roll my eyes and push her into the sixteens pen. I backtrack into the fourteens. We whisper for a bit, nudging each other and whispering. People look at me, they know who I am. The rumours spread fast around here. The mayor walks on stage.

"Eke Hem ladies and Gentlemen! Please, settle down, settle down!" I zone out there, scanning the crowds for my parents. But I can't see them; they're lost in the crowds. I look for Regan instead, catching a glimpse of her flame red hair. She's taller than most of the others so when she turns around and smiles I can see her clearly. I know she's smiling at me. I hope she's smiling at me. Our Escort trots on the stage, looking ridiculous as ever.

Bright orange hair sprouts from a hat that resembles the bun I just finished eating. The orange isn't muted, it's bright bright bright. And curly to boot. Her skin looks tinted orange, as if she's been dipped in orange dye and couldn't get it all out. Her dress though, was so ugly. Made from what looked like chicken wire and netting, the skirt was like a giant blue birds nest. The top half was a huge bubble, encasing her torso with a glittery orb. Even the mayor flinched when he saw her. Several of the younger children giggled. I didn't, the girl next to me trembled, and scared she was going to be reaped. A pang of sympathy flooded through me and put my arm around her.

"It's OK. You're not going to be reaped." I promised, "What's your name?"

"Paisley. It's not me! It's my sister, Basil! She's only twelve!" Paisley wails, "Her first reaping! She took out tesserae!"

"I swear, Basil will not be reaped." I promised though we both know I can't do anything about it. Other than volunteer, something whispers in my mind. We stand there, huddled together, me and Paisley, waiting for the dreaded time.

"Well now!" Our Escort chirps, "Girls first!" She dives her hand into the bowl, swirling around before plucking one out with her nails. "Basil Hadley!"

"NOOOO!" Paisley screams, they're obviously close, her and Basil. She pushes forward, away from me.

"Wait!" I gasp, grabbing her dress sleeve and pulling he back.

"You….promised!" She breathes at me, aiming a punch. It was feeble and I blocked it easily. Another girl takes her, pulling her into a hug. I squeeze past them, down towards the aisle. I can see a small blonde girl walking shakily up towards the stage. Paisley's sister. She glances back at us and my heart pounds. It's almost time. The escort smiles and drags the poor girl up onto the stage.

"Well then! Any volunteers?" I duck under the chains and wave my arms.

"Me! I volunteer!"

**Graphite Stoner**

I knew it, it was going to be some dramatic girls reaping and then the boy's one would be over shadowed. That's what usually happens. But still, I'm surprised Artemis actually volunteered, I was half expecting her to wimp out. She didn't though.

"Well well. A volunteer! What's your name?" Milena, our escort chirrups.

"Artemis…..Melet." There's a note of defiance in her voice.

"Why did you volunteer then Artemis?"

"Because I wanted free food." A few people chuckle, "Because I had to Milena! Because I couldn't let that little girl die like that." This satisfies Milena and she turns to the boys orb.

"Ooooh. Now onto the boys!" She smirks at us, showing off pearly pink teeth, "Killan Utes!"

A big boy from my section barges past, leaping over the divide and strolls up to the stage. He looks excited, ready to go. He has bulging muscles and blonde hair, what a crowd pleaser.

"I volunteer." I drawl loudly. Milena looks at me, Killan growls. I grin and make my way up to the stage. Killan was sent back down to the divide.

"Another volunteer! And you are?"

"Graphite!" I bark, "Graphite Stoner."

"Ahhhh, nice name. Why did you decide to submit yourself for that boy? He looked plenty good enough."

"Milena, Milena, Milena. It's a pride thing, I have to win. I have to beat them all! The games will bow to ME and ME alone!" I roar and the people roar back. I'm everything they want in a tribute, cocky, strong and sure of themselves. They think I'm going to win; I am going to prove them right.

"I think you need to learn a lesson!" Artemis murmurs, "I might win." I snort, she may be fierce but she's only fourteen.

"I agree Arty dear!" Artemis flinches when Milena calls her Arty. I would to, "But you are sure to be one of the capitols favourite tributes. The way you volunteered for that little girl! So Katnissesque!" She lays a placating hand on her arm and grips my wrist, "Lets here it for our District 2 tributes!" People crow, they clap, they laugh. There's relieved sobbing and delighted whispers. I bask in it all, I'm a hero. Artemis is a hero. It's all fine, these people. They're looking at a future victor. I don't doubt that.

**Artemis Melet**

I wait for my family to come as I huddle on the sofa in the Justice Building. I scuff my shoes on the expensive rug, scared, alone, torn. I let my hair down from its ponytail and hide behind it like a curtain. I feel the tears prick at my eyes, painful reminders that I care. That I'm not a killing machine. That I have feelings too.

"Artemis!" My mother barges into my room, Diane running in after her.

"Mom." I sniffled.

"How could you! So selfless but….why?" Diane ranted, "That stupid Basil! No one likes her. You're not going to come back alive neither would she! Graphite's going to win and, and, we lose you!" I don't answer; I sit there staring at the floor. I never really cared for my Mom; she was always too cold, too aloof for me. Diane? We didn't connect, we we're sisters by blood, not my mind, not by blood.

"Shut up Diane." I say, she hits me on the shoulder and runs out. Leaving me with my Mom.

"Artemis?" She started, "You looked so grown up out there. So different."

"Yeah."

"And I wanted you to know I was proud of you. Oh so proud of you." She flops down on the sofa and wraps her arms around me. I push her away and walk to the window. I can see the people exiting the square.

"No Mom."

"Is it too late for us Artemis? I'm oh so sorry." She whispers plaintively.

"Sorry Mom. I…I…I can't not right now."

"It won't be ever then." I don't stop her stalking from the room. I sigh; perhaps I shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have snapped at her. I wait for my next visitor. It will be Regan, I know it will. I'm right; when the door snaps open my redheaded friend is the one who enters.

"Artemis." She declared, "You're going to win this thing! Or at least give it a good shot." I whirl around to face my best friend. Her hair is messed up and her eyes are flickering everywhere but me. But she is Regan, my friend.

"Thanks Ree."

"I just hope I hear you say that again."

"I guess. Is my father coming….?" I look out the window again, already knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry Missy. He's not coming." My father has always been anti games. He hated the fact that I was training and loathed me wanting to volunteer. _If you do that Artemis….if you go in the Games for anyone else….I won't be visiting you before you leave. _He'd said that to my face, I had run off. Regan walks towards me and presses something cold and hard into my palms before retreating to the door.

"I should have known…I didn't do it just for that girl though Ree. I did it for….something else."

"I know Missy." She choked, "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

"_Stop! Mama I don't want to know how gruesomely I might die!" - Gigon Wells_

**Dayta Lynxx**

I brush my hair one hundred strokes exactly so that shines like a sheet of obsidian glass. I look at the scrap of mirror that hangs on the end of my bed. I am, as usual, stunning. It's quite difficult, being the mayor's daughter all the time. I get pretty dresses, make-up from the capitol, fabulous jewellery. I need to be perfect, look perfect, and act perfect. I love it though, it's just so me! (I am utter perfection) I turn towards the small cedar box on the pine desk. It's full of glosses and facial paints. I grab a bright pink mouth stick and smear it on my lips. Making sure it doesn't get on my nose. I also powder my face a pale pale white, a bit of blush and I'm ready. Almost. I go over to the wardrobe and open the doors wide. A mash of silks, woollen and cotton, all hanging snuggly together. My dresses.

I have, not surprisingly, a large fetish for luxurious clothes. What woman doesn't? Because although I am only thirteen I _am_ a young woman. Don't you forget it! I already need to wear a supporter and liners, mother begs me not to speak of it but what can I say? Is it my fault I'm proud to be older. No, it isn't. My mother has supported me through all this, just because unlike the others in district three, I am beautiful AND smart. My father, Mayor Lynxx is one of the smartest men in Panem. It is a shame however, that he is so dreadfully ugly. Thick straw like hair sprouting all over his head like some mad electro board. Saggy skin that has absolutely no lift and is always sallow. It's like living with a monster, a black haired monster with no taste in clothes. But that is fine, it makes what I wear seem even more fashionable.

Since the reaping is today I have to wear something nice. I'm not going to be reaped though; I'm the mayor's daughter. I don't take tesserae and even if my name IS plucked from those glass balls. Even if our lunatic escort does call out my name, someone will volunteer. I'm Dayta Lynxx; I'm a gem in the twisted cables that are District three. I run my fingers down the row of dresses. Blue ones, red ones, green ones, spotted ones. My eyes land on a white and pink spotted one, adorned with purple bows and flowers. Perfect. Now for my shoes, it takes some time. I have an entire other closet full to the brim of shoes. Just like a real capitol lady. But, because I want to look fabulous I chose the matching pair to my dress. Little kitten heels with bright pink barrettes. Now I will look gorgeous.

**Gigon Wells**

"Or you might get torn to pieces by a vicious mutt! Or, oh my, bludgeoned to death with a stick! You do remember that year with no weapons right?" My mother rattles on to me about the joys of the Hunger Games. Janie, Qyentin, Vero, Kaybel and I are sitting around the table. Its late morning and also my birthday but our mother is scaring us to death. My mother is a hardy woman, large and stocky, a rare build in our district. Janie is the oldest, she works a lab that specialises in hologram tech. Qyentin, pronounced Ken-tin, is fifteen, two years younger than Janie. He doesn't work much but does some selling in the bakery. Vero is Qyentin's best friend. When his mother died he came to live with us, like a new brother. Then there is me and Kaybel. Twins forever. Not. We can't stand each other, not one little bit. It's a shame then that we share the same birthday. Reaping day.

Mother had bad timing. It's a known fact and if I'm honest, it's a trait past onto me. Bad timing. I suppose it couldn't be helped that I was born twelve years ago, on this very day, the exact moment our reaping's end. Kaybel shares my opinion of our birthday.

WORST. DAY. EVER.

Perhaps it would be easier to bear if Mother tried to help us, but no. Instead she goes about prattling on about how we would die if we were reaped. _"Stop! Mama I don't want to know how gruesomely I might die!"_ I shout in my head, if she heard she might punish me.

"Or, the bloodbath could get you!" She carried on, "Oh, Oh, Oh! You might die of thirst! That would be funny."

"STOP IT!" Janie shouted suddenly, leaping up from her seat on the table, "Enough! You're scaring the kids." Mother looked shocked; she wasn't used to being answered back to. I slumped down in relief, hearing the ways I might die if I get reaped was not really the way I wanted to start the day. I tuck into my porridge, it tastes like wet sawdust in my mouth, its piece of slimy oatmeal slinging onto my throat. I wash it down with water but that's even worse. The water isn't stale, it's lovely and fresh. District Three is the richest now. The capitol had need for technology more than luxury and stone, so they brought it all from us. Most people are ankle deep in fresh carpet here. District Three used to be poorer; barely anyone had carpet before the Mockingjay Rebellion.

"Janie? What's the matter?" Janie is usually my mother's lapdog, always at her beck and call. Like a favourite pet or handy tool. I have my Holo-Tech Pad, a freebee Janie got from her work. It was malfunctioning but I still took it. I managed to fix it up and now it works perfectly. I even got to record voice commands; it recognizes my voice as well! My father tosses around words like, genius and prodigy. My mother just says fluke and cheating. I'm not sure who's right. My father, unlike my mother, actually seems to love me and my siblings. He congratulated us when we won awards, made sure our teachers were fair to us. Mother seemed too preoccupied with herself to really care about us. Sometimes I wondered what would happen if we all died. Nothing, I guess that's why she talks about the games so much, because she wants us to go in it.

One of the people at school had their brother go in the games a long time ago. He would be thirty if he had come back. He didn't. Their family was heartbroken, all of them. George said that if he had been alive he would have cried, sometimes he even cries now. For a brother he never knew. I ask myself what would I do if any of my siblings died in the games. I think I would cry if Janie died and I would be really sad if Qyentin hit the dust. But Kaybell? I don't think I'd care too much; she's a total pain in the butt. Sometimes I even want her to go in the games, it's a selfish horrible thought I know. But it's so hard to think nicely all the time. Especially when your mother keeps going on about how you're going to die in the Hunger Games. I doubt I'll be reaped, but I guess that's our problem isn't it. We all think we're invincible when we're not.

**Dayta Lynxx**

"Strawberry and sugar Darling?" Mother calls out when I reach the kitchen. I stare at her incredulously; she knows that I don't eat sugar before twelve am. Otherwise I get fat, _you shouldn't complain, there are people going without strawberries!_ My mother preaches on at me. Not that I pay any attention. I'm too bust checking my reflection in the sugar spoon.

"Dayta Lynxx! Pay-"

"Mother," I cut my mother of smoothly, "Please, you made me pay a terrible tribute and sacrifice when you named me Dayta Lynxx; let me check my face please!" I smirk at her open mouthed expression, satisfied that I had won this battle. She reddens and scoops up some sugar on a half-eaten strawberry before popping it into her mouth. I wince at her display of greed, mothers should know better. I smooth my hair down and smile up at her. Showing all my teeth.

"Dayta they've gone yellow!" my mother exclaims and I shut my mouth in horror. Yellow teeth? This just will not do.

"What? No, father you must get me booked into the dentist! They have to be white."

"No."

"Father! Do it!"

"No."

"FATHER! BOOK ME IN NOW!"

"No."

"FAAAAAAAAATTTTHHHHHHEEEEEEEEERRRRRR!"

"Dayta shut up right now!" I blink in surprise, "You need to stop this meltdown and get on with your life!" He sounds angry, father never sounds angry. But today he does.

"Mother tell fat-"

"No. Dayta look at me right now." I glare at my mother before staring at my father, ready for a shout off.

"What is it?" I snap.

"Don't take that tone with me young lady."

"I'll take whatever tone I like with you, Old MAN!" Then he slapped me. I choked in shock and I hear mother draw in a sharp breath behind me.

"Get out of my sight Dayta you spoilt brat."

"But father!"

"And change out of that dress as well, put on that black one we got you. Also get rid of that despicable junk off your face."

"Wyre! That's a mourning dress, you can't expect Dayta to wear-"

"Mara! Please shut up, she'll need that black for today is the reaping. Now leave!" I ran back upstairs, tearing the pretty dress off my body. I roughly grab the black dress from under my bed and shove it on. It was black velvet edged with grey lace. I wet a cloth and scrub my face until its red raw, I feel so scared. So not me, my cheeks are glowing and my eyes are puffy from crying. Father had never spoken to me like that; from his expression I could have sworn he wanted me into the games.

"DAYTA!" He yelled up the stairs, "I'm coming up the stairs and if you're still in your room I swear I will…." He left the sentence hanging; he didn't need to finish it. It was scarier leaving my imagination to work at it. I heard the clumpy footfalls coming up the stairs and whimpered in fright. In desperation I yanked up the window and half climbed out before dropping arms flailing into the fish pond. Soaking wet I scramble out the gate and into the deserted street, my shoes slipping on the cobbles. Tears blinding me I run and run. Passing the houses and people like I didn't care. I didn't. There were short cries when I barged past people and they stared in surprise at my black dress. I don't quite know where I'm going; it's like an instinct that my legs will take me where they need to go. I end up careering into a man. He's wearing all black. Black pants, black top, black jacket. On his head is a pair of portable speakers and he carried a camera on his shoulder.

"Watch it sweetie!" He yelled, I flinched back, "Oh wait. You're the mayor's daughter aren't you! Little Miss Lynxx!"

"It's Dayta." I say in my best 'I'm better than you' voice even though at the moment it comes out as; I'm scared. Help ME!

"Awwww. Why are you so wet? Let's get you home, you're only, what? Twelve?"

"I'm thirteen and no. I can't go home, my father will kill me."

"Because you got your dress all wet? Ok then. I'm Cartelle, a cameraman from the capitol. Would you like to see what we're doing?"

"Yes please." He grinned at me, not unkindly before turning away to check a clipboard with two names written in stark black letters. He spins around before I can see what the names are.

"You're in for a surprise Missy. One helluva of a surprise."

**Gigon Wells**

Janie shoves us all upstairs to get ready for the reaping. Qyentin has his own room all to himself and Vero sleeps in the cupboard room next door. Janie shares with Mother and Papa so me and Kaybell have to share. It's awkward as you can imagine me and a girl. Sometimes I can't help but stare at her. I mean, Mother says she a little mature for her age but she looks like she's got melons under her tops. Large squishy melons, not that I know what squishy melons are of course. She always shouts at me if she catches me staring, I try to be clever about it but I'm not that good. She brushes her hair, a shock of ginger just like mine but longer. I pull on a fresh shirt and bow tie; it's red and blue with little cable like squiggles all over it. Qyentin says it looks dorky I think it looks fabulous.

"You ready dork?" Vero yells through the door, "And you to Dorkette!"

"Yes Vero, I'm ready!" Kaybell storms through the door, knocking Vero to the floor in her hurry. He shrugs at me from the floor and drags himself up.

"Good luck little Gigs." He grins and pats me on the shoulder before sprinting downstairs and out the door.

It's a kind of ritual, Mother and Father Leave first. Janie comes after. Then Qyentin, next Vero. Then it's me a Kaybell, she's glaring at me from the door. Come on! She gestures to me, let's go! I caper forward and out the door. We walk down the street towards the square; I can see Qyentin and Vero up ahead jogging merrily towards our doom. I feel my hands go sweaty and sweat pours down my forehead. My breathing gets laboured and all I want to do is run and hide. But I can't. _You won't get reaped. Not you, It won't be you Gigon. Not you. _I try to believe myself but there's a sense of foreboding. A dread that tickles down my spine as the lady pricks my finger and shoves me towards the pens. It's a warning of death that strangles me as the escort totters on and talks about the president.

As she dips her hand towards the boys bowl.

As she draws out the paper slip and breaks the tape.

As she takes a sly look at the name, takes a breath and reads out-

"Gigon Wells!"

**Dayta Lynxx**

From my space in the crowd I see a shivering boy emerge from the twelve year olds section. So young, so fragile, so scared. I'm not scared, a bit nervous but then who isn't. My father is up there and I try to hate him with every cell in my body but I can't. All I can do is hope his mood won't last. I try to feel confident as our escort grips onto Gigon's arm, try not feel like I might be next.

"Hello Gigon! You look so excited!" Actually he looks a little sick, not quite the excited she was hoping for.

"Urrrr, actually-"

"And your name! How fabulous!"

"Thank you but actually-"

"I mean, Gigon? I was in fits! You really are going to be spectacular in the games!"

"Umm. Actually-"

"Now should be do the girls!?"

"Actually-"The escort pushes Gigon back and launches herself at the girls bowl as if it was a pot of gold.

"Now, this bowl holds something different. This time destiny is being made. The name that is drawn from this bowl is sacred. So without further ado." She scans the crowd and I feel her gaze land on me. A somewhat malicious smile played on her lips and I gulped In terror. I'd spent the morning talking to the capitol people and I felt like I was at home. Now I was here, stuck with a bunch of people I didn't even like. She dipped her forefinger and thumb into the bowl, whirling them around. They pick on up and she uses her sharp red nails to flick off the tape.

"Dayta Lynxx." Oh. It's me. I expect people to cry, to rush forward and volunteer. But they don't. People actually CLAP, as I shakily make my way to the stage. Some cheer and laugh.

Yay! It's not them. It's the Mayor's girl.

But it can't be me, I'm too precious, I'm too, too, too. I can't think of anything. I want to laugh a cold hard laugh. To show people I'm not scared, instead I settle for a triumphant smirk.

"Hello Dayta."

"Hello."

"I wanted to say how pretty you look today."

"I wanted to say how ridiculous you look today." That shuts her up.

"Well Dayta, is there anything else you want to say?"

"Nope." She giggled and popped the p at the end.

"Ahhh. Are you looking forward to the games then?"

"Oh yes! I'm going to kill so many people." She looks rather alarmed when I say that, can't any of them see that I'm faking it? From the looks on their faces I can see that they can't, am I really that obscure? Maybe that's a good thing, maybe it isn't. I don't care, I'm Dayta Lynxx, I never care.

The escort shyly nudges us back towards the Justice building, like she's afraid that we'll kill her. Wouldn't I hope so. She tells us to wait for our visitors. I quieten down then, because tributes are allowed to see people before they go to the game. Some people only get one others two or three.

I'm getting none.

A/N – There we go! District three, sorry it was a late update, I lost my USB with all the story saved so I couldn't update. But you have it now, yay! And yes, I know. Dayta Lynxx. Data Links. It's word play right there. So some questions fpr you to answer please.

1. Who was you favourite of these two character and what did you think of them both?

2. Who is your favourite of all of the tributes at the moment

3. What part of the games are you looking forward to most?

4. What can I do to improve me writing – (character wise, descriptions, grammar, ect.)


	5. Chapter 5

"_I wish I were a fish." River Randeer_

**River Randeer**

The water swirled leisurely around my knees, the soft white foam of the sea clutching to my bare pale legs. My hands shook as I held the trident above the water, watching the fish swim around me. The trident was heavy and the sun was beating down. You wouldn't have guessed it was only early morning. The steel points wavered in my unsteady grasp; I wasn't used to holding these, even though I was fifteen and technically ready to work. But I don't. If you're wondering why, well it's none of your business. But I'll tell you anyway.

I'm crazy

Or at least that's what everyone else thinks. It was actually my elaborate plan to get me out of the games. Unfortunately it didn't work. The plan was to pretend I was crazy because Elixir had more sympathy than her grandfather. I hoped that she wouldn't let me participate because I was mad. But she has made me participate by sending a personally written letter. It's a shame and a shock because all I can do is hope. I'm scared of the games you see; frightened I'll go in and never come back. Because that happens to loads of people. They go and then they NEVER come BACK.

I find a fish worth stabbing and keep a close eye on it. This will be my first catch alone and I want it to be a good one. My family don't know I'm here, my brother might but then my brother seems to know everything. The fish swam closer, sifting the sand with his fins. A little closer and I'd be able to get it, just a little closer, one more meter. There! I swung the trident down, slicing the fish through the water and pinning it to the sand beneath it. Pride waved through me, I'd caught a fish! A real life fish! All by myself! I grinned and jumped up and down in the water. My dress got soaked but I didn't care that much, _that_ much. Laughing to me I waded back to the beach, feeling the grainy sand beneath my toes was a comfort. There was no doubt my parents were going to tell me off for being out here it was inevitable, but I planned to postpone it by staying on the beach for as long as I could. Even if that meant just sitting and doing nothing, I'd do it.

It isn't that I don't love my family, I do. My mother, Coral Randeer, is lovely. All soft blonde hair and tanned skin from all the hours outside selling fish at the market. She has stunning sweet baby blue eyes outlined by tiny golden lashes; small wrinkles are the only sign of her age. Mother works at the market, running the stand that I will inherit when I am old enough. If I reach that age then it will be my turn to smell like fish and to haggle with the people of my district. My father as well, is called Bass named after the sea bass, is as good as a father one like me can get. Stern but loving, tries to fill our tummies with food. Makes sure we get good clothes. It's not them, it's me. I'm selfish and I know it. My brother tells me often that I am a selfish shellfish and I need to learn to appreciate my life. But I can't, it's just so natural to just expect it all. The clothes, the food, the freedom. We have it easy here in District four, I know we do. The president has an acquired taste and just loves sea food. All the better for us, our district is one of the richest now. And still careers I presume, but I don't know, these are the first hunger games in years. No one knows what to expect any more.

**Tide Randeer**

I open my eyes sleepily, falling out of my bed onto the floor, it's slightly sandy the result of living right next to the beach. I stretch and clear my eyes, searching the room for the ice companionship of my sister. River. She's not here. I give a little huff of irritation, of course she would pull a trick like this on the day of the reaping, like I hadn't enough to worry about. Rolling my shoulders back and forth to rid them of any remaining stiffness I got ready to find River. It wouldn't be difficult. I know where she will be, the beach. I pull on my ratty leather sandals and quietly exit our room, keeping sure not to wake the parents. They couldn't know River was gone, that's why it all fell to me. Tide, the responsible one. The poor one with the crazy sister. The one who had to drop out of school to look after her. Well sure, that's me, but still. Maybe I did drop out, but Rivers my friend, she's the closest thing I have to comfort. Even if that comfort feels like it came from the Arctic.

Sometimes I regret what I've done to my sister, made her feel comfortable going out onto the beach. Other times I celebrate it. It's just difficult, but you learn to live with it. It's a short walk to the sandy shores and the fresh sea air clears the last stubborn cobwebs from my mind. I tuck my hair behind my ear, it's quite shaggy but cut above my shoulders. My eyes match River's, a dull grey ish blue. Like the sea on a foggy day. As I round onto the beach I spot her. Her scruffy hair is done up in a ponytail but it had been sectioned up, like bubbles. Her skin is pale as mother doesn't like her going outside much. She was dancing in the waves, a melancholy look on her face. It's half scared half resigned. It's the face of someone who knows they are going to die. I know that face, it was on Veins when he volunteered for the reaping. Now I'm worried.

"River!" I shout, she turns to me and frowns. Like I've interrupted something.

"Tide, what are you doing here?"

"Saving your butt from Mother."

"I don't need saving." River said indignantly, I rolled my eyes.

"It's reaping day Riv's."

"Do you think I don't know?" I caught a note of worry in her voice, "Do you think I don't that? Because I do, I do know! I'm crazy, not stupid."

"Riv's." I back track furiously because I could see my sister was about to explode fiery anger all over my face, "Hey, calm down. Let's just go home and sort this out huh?" She turned away from me and my bad attempt at peacekeeping and walked deeper into the water. Her dress swirls on the surface, showing off her snowy white legs. The end of her black hair kept dipping itself in the sea, creating a dark shade. She looked so fragile all I wanted to do was gather her up and protect her, which sounds kind of like incest. Yes, I know. But she's not right in the head; she can't be playing a game, right?

**River Randeer**

I pity my brother sometimes, like right now. He's trying to protect me from my parents and I don't deserve it. He doesn't know that in our family he would be the first one I'd kill. I'm not feeling guilty about that, it's called survival and that's the only thing on my mind. I should indulge him though, be nice to him. After all, that's what a good sister does. So I set my mind racing, what could I talk about. I didn't really have a clue, so I ended up just blurting out the first thing that came to my head.

"I wish I were a fish." I spun around to face him, mainly to see what his reaction was. Raised eyebrows and a frown. Great, a lecture coming up.

"A fish? Why." This was not what I expected.

"Yeah, a fish. Because then I could be free, free to roam the ocean with the constant worry of the Capitol."

"Rebellious thoughts sister, remember what happened to Katniss?"

"Of course I do. But it's true, I may be crazy but I'm not stupid." He has to keep believing the lie.

"Crazy's shouldn't try to go against the Capitol."

"And since when did you become a Capitol loving freak?"

"I'm not; look I'm just trying to protect you. After what happened with Ulva?" I quickly shut up when he mentioned our other sister. How dare he bring her up!

"Shut up! Shut up I don't want to hear it anymore. No, no, no."

"River!"

"Why, why did you bring up Ulva? You know that I hate it, I have always hated her." Tides eyes narrowed, a look of annoyance spreads over them.

"You don't hate her; you're just upset that she left when you needed her most. You're upset that she joined the rebellion! Yeah, your favourite sister a traitor to our family, you lost all your friends. The ones you had felt that craziness ran in the family. Well, I'm sorry, but she isn't coming back." Anger broiled up inside of me, until I couldn't keep a lid on it anymore.

"What a life you lead, finding ways to torment me, you _bastard_. Well listen up here, you've spent your entire life looking after me. Protecting your poor crazy little _sister_ who couldn't hurt a _fly_. You gave up _everything_, Celia, your mates, your job for me. For _my_ mental condition. Well here's the thing." I prowled towards him, leaving the water and stepping right into his face, "Here's the thing Tide. I've been playing this game; I have you wrapped around my little finger. Because here's the truth, it was all a ploy. I'm not crazy, I'm clever. Sharp, I know how to get it. You threw your life away. For nothing."

Then I ran from the beach and into the town. I have had my revenge, but I still need to do something. Something bigger, something to do with Celia. My brothers girlfriend, or should I say, ex-girlfriend. She lived in this wooden hut on the outskirts of the market, blue door and rush reeded roof. I knocked on the door three times, the pattern my brother told me about. A girl of about seventeen opened it, long flowing blonde hair curled down her back and framed her face giving her a softer appearance. Warm brown eyes searched mine curiously and pale slender fingers gripped the door way. _Celia_. I have to admit, my brother knows how to pick girls, Celia looks like an angel. I could almost imagine that glowing bronze halo hovering above her golden hair. To say I'm not jealous would be a lie, I am insanely jealous. After all, who doesn't favour blond angelic locks over my salt encrusted dirty black ones?

"River?" Even her voice is holy for goodness sake. "What's up? Why are you here?" After my brother dumped her to look after me, she became slightly frosty, to me at least.

"Celia? I have something to tell you."

"Well, do you want to come in?"

"No, it's okay, this won't take long." Celia looked nervous as she wiped her sweaty hands on her pale pink dress.

"Right, well, I'm getting dinner ready so hurry up C-"She stops herself from saying CrazyGirl. Everyone calls me that behind my back, thy think I don't notice. They think wrong.

"Yeah. It's about Tide."

"Does he want to see me again?" You could just see the hopes rising up in her mind. Well I'm sorry Celia; I'm just going to have to crush them.

"No. It's a sparkling nugget of truth I found out this morning, you'll love it."

"Nugget? Well okay then, make it quick."

"Tide was cheating on you, with Oyster Hamish. " Celia's lips wobble and a grim satisfaction settles over me. I tilt my head and give her a cheery wave before moving on. Leaving my brother's ex crying tears over the lies of my brother. Ha, let him fish on that. People smile at me as I walk along, someone tosses me a ripe juicy apple. A gesture of kindness as money is short here, especially in this poorer part of town. I start to head home, knowing that the wet sodden dress I was wearing now wouldn't do much for the reaping.

**Tide Randeer**

I hate her, I hate my sister. First off she's lied to me, put rebellious thoughts in my head (Through the medium of a fish mind) and now she told Celia a lie. Yes, I followed her. I stayed hidden as she traipsed up Quarter Avenue and knocked on Celia's door. I watched and listened as she told her a lie. Celia's face, it was heart breaking. But I'll get through. I have to, I need revenge. That's what I'm out for now. Revenge on the girl who ruined my life. Mom and Dad don't need to understand, they just have to let me do my thing.

I start along another path, concocting my revenge. It was more or less a 'Should I do this' or 'Should I do that' situation. Heck, I barely even scratched the surface of what I wanted to do to her. There were so many things, but the reaping got in the way. My ratty shirt and short would just have to do, I didn't have enough time to change and go home. Instead I made my way to the square. The closer I got the bigger the crowds. Several people grinned at me and nodded in recognition. I'm recognised for looking after my 'crazy' sister when she's not even crazy! A river of anger runs through me again and I quashed it down quickly. Anger won't help me here, especially when I'm facing the reaping.

I got myself registered in then stand with a bunch of guys my age, a group of nervous sixteen year old guys It isn't long before Marina comes on, our escort. Her skin is dyed turquoise and her hair done in an outrageous blue shade. Then comes the long boring speech, I'm not listening. I'm busy looking for River. I don't notice when she drags a slip out of the girls bowl.

I don't notice when she plucks it open.

Or when she takes a good look at it.

Or when the expression of pity crosses her face.

Or when she opens her mouth.

But I do notice the name she calls out.

"River Randeer!"

No.

**River Randeer**

I made sure my dress was immaculate before I stepped out and onto the stage. It felts ridiculous that only minutes before, I had been gloriously laughing inside at the fact that I had made a fool of my brother. And now? Now I was facing death. Sometimes I wondered if the universe hated me. Other times I knew it does. I heard a small whisper of Awwww, shuffling through the crowds. Because I'm the crazy one, the one none of them expected to become tribute. Not that any of them would volunteer, this may be a career district but we still value our lives.

I slowly walked up to it, making sure people got a good look at my trembling lips and watering eyes. Even for one called CrazyGirl I am a good actor, actress even. I don't brag, I just knew that I was, after I tricked them all into thinking I was crazy, how could I not be? Making tears come at my command was simple; everything else would be a piece of cake.

_But what if I don't want to lie anymore?_

The voice inside my head questioned me. It was a good question, what if I didn't. What if I just wanted to be me, sane old River Randeer, daughter of Corale and sister of Tide? What if I wanted to be that person? But NO. No, no, no, no. I will NOT become that person. What is the point of honing me into this, act of craziness, if I do not complete it to the end?

_So that you realise that you don't need to be crazy?_

Shut up! Shut up, I told myself. Anyway, being mad was supposed to protect me.

_But it didn't, you're still in the games, insane or not._

Well yeah, but what does being crazy have to do with that? No, I will play my part, for better or for worse. Even if I shall be dead within the next few months. I will be myself, even if that means pretending. I smirked inwardly at the voice in my head, thinking that I had won this battle. Because as far as I was concerned I had.

_You'll regret it._

I wouldn't, I'd make sure I didn't. I'd take every precaution to make sure I was glad of my decision.

_You'll come to your last days and regret all that hurt you caused_

I mentally turned the voice off; I didn't want to listen anymore! But it didn't shut up, the whispers grew louder and louder.

_All that pain you've delivered_

Shut up, shut up. I glance up between arguing with the voices. I was still walking, leisurely up to the podium. Our mentor's face looks pained, Annie Cresta. Like she knew what I was going through. That wasn't right, no one knew. Only I did and I wasn't going to go about sharing this information willy nilly.

_Because you were too selfish_

Please, they were calling me selfish? What about all the people out there who could see me, legs wobbling, barely able to stand, and NOT volunteering? Those were the selfish ones. Those were the ones I should be targeting, not myself!

_It will be your entire fault, you'll die alone._

I wouldn't let myself; after all surely I would get allies in the arena. Surely I wouldn't die alone. Annie's alone, Finnick died protecting Katniss, Katniss wasn't worth it. He could have saved himself a whole world of pain by just not allying with her. Or at least being on the capitol side. Ironic, I was being so ironic. Because it was me, that girl at the beach that wanted to be free of them. Now here I was, taken into the Games and I was taking their side.

_Misunderstood because you lied about who you were_

Lying was the easiest way, not that it did me much good. I still was reaped, I still was chosen. Still, I had to walk that treacherous walk up to the stage. I had to grab the hand of that pompous capitol lady like it was my last lifeline. Marina that was what she called herself. Marina like the sea. I gripped her icy blue skin and tugged at it like a six year old. Her silk dress brushed my skin and I wanted to sigh. It felt so smooth.

_You're such a liar River_

I acted that I couldn't let go. When Marina asked me my name I told her it was River. I pretended I was excited but scared, that was what the District wanted me to act like. That is what I will do. I eventually do let go, after all, I had already stalled the reaping with my dramatics. They needed to get on with the boys so we can go to the capitol. I stood there, waiting to know my opponent. Marina dipped her hand in the bowl and cheerily plucked one out. Was I curious? Yes, yes I guess I was.

_You know who it will be_

Who was the liar know? Of course I didn't know. Why should I? Why would I? The speaker in my head laughs a horrible laugh. Because I know who it will be. Of course I do. Fate hates me, wy wouldn't I? And then the voices laugh spills out into the air, its a few seconds before I realise it's me. I'm the one laughing manically. Why? Because the name just called.

"Tide Randeer!"

A/N

Yay! I am SO sorry for not updating in a while. I'm a slow typer, especially when I try to write all 3000 or so expected words in one freakin sitting. (That is so like me). Good news is that I am officially the BEST READER IN MY SCHOOL! Yesssss.

Ok. Enelya, let's stop with the crazy. Crazy! Ahhh, yes. River's last bit. It is, rather ODD. Yes, it IS ment to be like that so just bare with it kay? She's confused, it's her way of dealing with it all. So then, keep on the look out for D5 in the next few weeks.

Read and Reveiw!


	6. Chapter 6

_e"Let's hope you are as late to your death as you are to your reaping." Peacekeeper_

**Leccy Banim**

"Jonas!" Watts yelled down up the stairs at us, "Jonas get down here now! You too Leccy." I shoot a look at my older brother who is lounging on the roof next to me. He returns it with a quick eyebrow raise and an upturn of the lips. I know it sounds silly but I idolise my brother, in fact I fancy myself in love with him. Its madness, I know, but I cannot help it. Everyone who meets him fall in love with him. I guess I just fell harder than others. Of course, he is not my true brother. My mother died giving birth to me and my father didn't re marry. Instead he got himself a job and started working again. Unfortunately he was injured in a factory incident and committed suicide so he wouldn't suffer. That was the thing with my father; he always took the easy way out, but that isn't me, I go the hard way or no way.

I yawn and stretch my fingers into the air before getting to my feet.

"Come on Jonas, let's go, it's reaping day after all." Jonas nods and mimics me. Reaching his fingers high into the air and delicately jumps to his feet. I feel myself blush as he mocks me.

"Yes little Leccy, let's go in." He climbs down the ladder into the house but I stay out here a little longer. The roof used to be my special place, and then _she_ came and took over. Then _Jonas_ came and took over, making a fool of me was his speciality. But I always forgave him; I'm a very forgiving person. I came up here early today, because I'm scared. Why? Because it's reaping day. The first reaping in almost twelve years. Whoever will be reaped today will be special, whoever is reaped today will die. All except one person, that one will be victor.

Not that anyone ever really comes back out again. The victor isn't really a person, but an empty shell. They've killed people, they've survived against hell. You can't come out of that unscathed. It's impossible, improbable even. It just doesn't happen.

"Leccy! Come on, get down here now, we are going to watch an old hunger games and you won't want to miss it." Watts calls up again. Watts is my adopted mother. She took me in when I had nowhere else to go and I hate her for it. The last words my Father said to me were 'Make it on your own' I vowed to do that! I wanted to do that, wanted to prove I didn't need help. But I was taken in, helped out by this family, they stopped me running away and I denied my father's last request. I mean, he wasn't much of a father but he was something of my family, even if he was pathetic.

"Coming!" I shout back down, there isn't any point being rude. And anyway, I want to see how the old games play out to compare them to this year.

We have an old TV set but Pip hooked it up to the power plant down the road so we have unlimited power for it. Also we get hot water straight from the tap and gas for the stove. Pip has real talent for that sorta thing. So when I reach the ground floor I squeeze myself in next to Jonas and Levet. Pip balanced precariously on the edge. Watts slips in the video and we settle down to watch. It's the 48th Hunger Games. We start with the reaping's, the escorts are crazy, wackily dressed in all sorts of luminous colours. The girl from one cries, as does the girl from three. Most of the boys look scared, some look scary. I enjoy the chariot rides. The costumes are amazing, the people from one go in golden toga's encrusted with lace. My district has their hair pulled up in spikes and twisted like power spires.

The interviews are next, cocky people, sexy, confident. It all goes by. I try to imagine myself as one of these people. It's hard, but I can just about do it. My hair is done in a long ponytail, different from its usual tight mousy bob. I would wear a dress of the most vibrant green that billowed around me like clouds. I look beautiful, I'm sweet and kind and confide-

"Leccy! Back to reality, hey, we were talking to you!" I snap out of my dream and look up at Jonas.

"Uh?" He rolls his eyes.

"I asked you if you thought that the girl from D12 was hot."

"She'd be long dead by now." I mumble.

"Yeah but, she was in the games. Course I'd go out with her." An idea pops into my head.

"So, say if I volunteered would you go out with me?"

"If you came back alive then heck yeah!" I smile and a plan forms in my mind. I could win the games, I'd be prepared.

"Stop whispering and watch the games." I turn back to the telly just in time to watch D12's girl interview.

"Hello Lanten."

"Caesar."

"Well, well. This is a surprise, the capitol seemed to love you!"

"And that's a surprise because?" Lantern's eye's narrowed at Caesar.

"Well, your district 12. It's just, unexpected."

"What, because we're weak? Ha, that's just your view. We ARE strong, stronger than all of you!"

"Lantern!" The girl stood up, her billowing black dress standing starkly out against her pale white skin. It also matched her coal black hair.

"No, Caesar, don't Lantern me. You all just write us off, like we are NOTHING. Well, let me tell you. We are not. We can be strong, we can win. In fact. I'll make a bet with you, with ALL of you."

"Fine then, what is this bet?"

"If I win, and if I become victor, then you have to give my district some credit. Some actually credit and a feast! A feast for them all." Caesar snorted and listened to her ear piece.

"The president says Fine! But the chances you will win are slim, it's a bad bet on your behalf!" While the capitol were in peals of laughter Lantern stormed off, a look of anger on he face. I sat there, bewildered. I hadn't realised that this sort of thing happened before the Mockingjay Rebellion.

We watch the training and just the daily wait of the tributes. Then we get to the bit I've been waiting for. The games.

**Fuze **

"Ha ha, get with it Fuze. Your thirteen and not likely to be reaped." I cowered slightly as Gyga rolls his eyes at me. It's not really my fault I'm melodramatic. You pick it up after a while of watching capitol TV.

"It's better than ogling the President." I mutter to myself.

"What? Don't diss me Fuzey boy or you'll regret it."

"I already do." Because I did. I met Gyga when we were five grew up together. But when we reached twelve we changed. I became interested in how the power plants worked and all Gyga wanted was money. Money. Mechanics. Money. Mechanics. Not a good mix if you ask me. I fiddle with the multi coloured wires as Gyga throws another wire ball at the poster of Katniss Everdeen. We're at our secret place, a roof top factory with a tin wall around it. No one would ever think of looking for us here. I hope any way.

I tell Gyga that I'm going to go home and he stares at me like I'm an alien. He just sits there mouth open, if I had the gut's I'd tell him to shut it before a fly flies in. But I don't have the guts, so I don't. Instead I grin and tramp down the ladder, my bare feet scratching on the metal. The gravel is hard on my feet as I jump the three feet down onto the ground. I don't know what happened to my shoes, a street child probably stigged them. The dirty sewer water that flows onto the streets tickles my toes. I try not to be disgusted by it; I should have been used to it. I've lived in the slums of D5 for my entire life. Stealing off the more pricey stalls we couldn't afford. It's a dangerous life, stealing's punishable by whipping. But I don't get caught, I'm too fast. All of us street rats are.

Street rats, that's what the rich call us now. There's a big divide in D5 now, there are the rich, and then there are the poor. I think of my family, me, and my mother and Witt. My brother is six but already an accomplished thief. Undernourished and petite, Witt makes for the best of us street rats. Even if he does get caught, any one will save him, he's like a baby cherub. Blond hair, blue eyes, chubby face. But a devious mind, he LIKES this life. Whereas I don't. I hate it; I want something better for myself. There is only one way to do that, The Hunger Games. But that's a plan for later, a plan for the reaping. Right now I have more pressing matters to contemplate. AKA – food.

I creep up onto the market square. It's deserted, of course it is. Today is the reaping, why would people be out? I turn away, the black market it is then. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I see something moving. It's a peacekeeper. Drat. I start off sprinting but the keeper is fast. Faster than usual. His white boots clunk behind me. We duck through alleys, I'm used to it, and I'm small and nimble, able to duck the washing hanging above me. The keeper can too, it's almost like he used to live here himself. We race and race, but just when I think I've lost him, he jumps out at me, pushing me to the floor.

"What have we got here? A rat?" I squirm in his grip. Not because I want to get free, but because he called me a rat. It's true. I'm small and my skin is dirty and unwashed. A brown grey colour, just like a rat. My eyes are kind of small, and I have a long pinched up face. I am a rat among the street rats. From the corner of my eyes I can see a bunch of them gathering up around the edges of the street. Curious to know why a peacekeeper is in the slums.

"Little rat? Ha, no way!" I mumble under his crushing hold. He smiles grimly at me.

"Well, ratinho! I have got you now! How does a whipping sound Mr Homeless." I squeak, suddenly scared. Everyone knows what happens to the homeless, "Eh? I suppose you just live off other people's food eh?" Again I squeal. I don't want to be whipped.

"No. I'm not homeless! I swear."

"Phhhffff. You are. I know these things." He hauls me to my feet and grins, "I do love a good whipping. Especially before a reaping." Whimpering, he pulls me towards the square. I'm about to resign to my fate when a girl runs forward.

"No! Stop! That's my brother!" The girl is about a year older than me. Maybe two years. Her mousey brown hair is bobbed at her shoulder and her skin is tanned. She doesn't look like a slum rat. She looks like someone from the richer side of town.

"Is it? Is she your sister ratinho?" I nod desperately and think of the most random name I could.

"Wyre!" The girl smiles and nods.

"It's my brother sir! Honestly Gig's, what have you been doing? Playing with the street rats again? I thought Mama told you to leave them alone." She takes me off the peacekeeper and smiles thankfully at him, "Thank you so very much sir, finding my brother, he is such a naughty boy." Then she yanked me along, faking telling me off. I was hoping she was just going to go around the corner and leave. But she didn't.

"So, is your name rathino? "

"No, and that is ratinho. Not rathino. But my names Fuze."

"Well then Fuze, I'm Leccy. Leccy Banim."

"Thanks for saving me." She nods and let's go of my arm.

"That's okay. You didn't deserve to be treated as such. Now I'm hoping that you do have a real family to get home to. Now run along."

"I don't." I lie, "I really am homeless." The girl frowns, she looks down at me.

"let's go to the reaping then Fuzey boy."

**Leccy Banim**

I don't know what forced me to save that boy, it just happened. He was a street rat. I could tell, he just seemed like that sort of screwed person. He scans me with his eyes. Taking it the pressed blue dress and brushed hair. A big difference to his ratty tee and soiled shorts. He stinks too, but I keep on walking.

"How old are you?" I ask.

"Thirteen."

"Really, that's the same age as me, you look younger you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I have been told." He sounds really upset, like he doesn't like being small. I have to admit, it isn't my fault I'm a freak. AKA really tall. We dawdle, so I know we're going to be late. I keep quiet as we cross across to the square, hoping no one will notice our lateness. No such luck.

"Oi. You two. A bit late aren't we?" The peacekeeper leers at us, "Let's hope your as late to your deaths as you are to your reaping." He doesn't say anymore and lets us pass. I get my hand stamped by the registrar. In some districts they take a blood sample, here we get stamps. We say a quick good bye before heading to our sectors. I stand with a bunch of girls my age; I recognise a few of them. I can smell the street rats; I have an acute sense of smell some might say. I clutch the hem of my dress, going over the plan in my head. It's a bad plan; I hate the thought of it. I hate it, I hate it. But I'll do it, I have to.

I don't listen to our escort; she's just spouting a load of waffle anyway. But I do pay attention when she starts to dip her hands into the bowls. She does the girls first; I flinch when she picks one up. I wince when she flicks it open with a flick of her long talons. I start sweating when she reads the name out.

"Lecctrica Banim!"

Me. Me, me, me, me, ME. I don't have to volunteer anymore, I have been REAPED. A cold dread falls over me as I walk up to the stage. I stumble and trip a lot, falling over seems like it's on the cards. I realise that this isn't just a game, it's the Hunger games. I am going to die. Probably. I cross my fingers behind my back in prayer that the 'careers' haven't trained. Please, please, please. The escort grabs me in an attempt to make me go faster. I fall to the floor instead. I'm crying, I can feel the hot tears falling down my face. I'm making a fool of myself, I can't be weak.

_Get up!_ A voice in my head tells me, _Get up and show them that you are not AFRAID. Get up and tell the world who you are._ I obey, wiping the tears from my eyes I stand up. Planting my feet apart and staring over the heads like I don't care. Because I am strong, I am AMAZING! I'm not, but I'll pretend I am. Just for today.

"What's your name then?" I resist rolling my eyes, she knows my name. She just read it out!

"Leccy B."

"Leccy? How charming." But I can tell she's disgusted by it, well, Leccy is a bit of a weird name. The escort dips her hand into the bowl for the boys.

"Fuze …... err...Fuze!" I perk up a bit, it was that boy from the slums, the one I saved. A part of me is sad knowing that at least one of us won't be coming home. Another part is glad I have an ally, or at least something like it. He walks up to the stage, his almost clean shaven head bowed. The escort winces when she sees and smells him. It's almost enough to make me burst out laughing, almost. He's shivering. He's scared, I can agree. I'm scared too. I'm shivering, I feel cold. But I'm not alone. Not quite yet anyway.

A/N

I am the most horrible person EVER. I am sooo sorry it took ages to update – eek!

Anyway, thank you for the reviews, keep em coming people! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I besed the slums on the Brazilian favela's.


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